What a Tangled Web we Weave
by DeadlyPuf
Summary: Lord English finally reveals himself by manipulating trolls and the midnight crew to do his bidding with a magic deck of cards. Doc Scratch decides enough is enough, and uses the felt, trolls and kids to his advantage to take him down for the final tme


**What a tangled web we weave**

**Scratch: Enter**

Omniscience is a rather broad term. While my straight-forward demeanor suggests otherwise, not everything can be so simply a matter of black and white. Where there is tyranny, there will be revolt. Where there is concupiscence, there is destined to be underlying loathing and hate. While these concepts are indeed very simple ones, the narrative that eternally surrounds these concepts can be very easily misunderstood or misinterpreted. It is not the job of the omniscient to understand these seemingly menial details, but to understand the blatant facts, and if so required to deliver these facts in a timely matter to those who ask of them.

It is the latter part of my previous diatribe that strikes me as almost unnerving. That is, if it were possible for me feel such things as frustration or discomfort. Emotions are a silly thing to worry about.

What I do know, is that the way he looks at me and speaks to me, should very likely trouble me to no end. I was created as the first guardian of Alternia, to watch over its progress and keep things in order until things were just right for his arrival. Instead of giving me the respect I rightfully deserve, I am nothing but a pawn to that man. An instrument, no more no less.

While this fact used to sit well with me, as time drones on and on it seems to tick in my mind just like the restless hands of that perpetual clock. The game is teetering on its last edges now, waiting to collapse within itself, to be destroyed at last. This will signal the end for both I, and the children and trolls alike.

And I was just starting to get fond of them.

Maybe it's time to say "enough is enough". To allow the senselessness that is this ever-repeating game to finally cease.

I have an upper-hand in this situation. I am the one gifted with omniscience, not he. That of course is why I was created. There must always be a method to the madness. A balance, if you will.

It's about time you tipped the scale in your favor.

**Be Lord English**

That has to be the silliest request ever made. Be Lord English? Come on now. You should know better than to even think of such a thing. Let's observe instead.

Lord English seems to have one strife specibus and one alone. Cardkind, a deck of cards that doesn't seem much different than the ones members of the midnight crew carry.

He stands there, in a plane of nothingness. You ponder what a plane of nothingness would look like. It's pretty difficult to imagine someone standing in a bunch of nothing. As a matter of fact, you can't even imagine how to describe the Lord, despite that he stands right in front of you. He's almost shade-like, with only one feature that seems to catch your eyes other than his vibrant and lengthy overcoat. Never before in your life have you gazed upon such piercing green eyes...

Or… Wait…

After getting a closer look you realize those aren't eyes that strike you with fear, but hollow sockets. Sockets that just like his body seem to bleed their colors out and carry them through the blank space like toxic cigarette smoke in the air. You know that because of this, he can't possibly see you but… you can't shake the feeling of being watched nonetheless.

His overcoat drapes over his translucent figure, tailing behind him as the waves of shifting hues that line the rims of the coat seem to trail along for miles before fully fading away into the vast nothingness.

You never thought a man with a technicolored dreamcoat could actually strike so much fear into your heart with the mere thought of a simple glance.

You see him stick what you can assume is his hand into his pocket and draw out a single card. The King of Spades. As you begin to watch more intently, you begin to notice a very familiar theme playing itself out in the silhouette of the king on the card. It's of a battle with The Felt and the Midnight Crew, gunning each other from the sides of a corridor.

The space surrounding you begins to feel thick and heavy, weighing you down and making your head throb. As this is happening, lord English waves his ghostly hand that holds the card towards his face and breathes out a heavy emerald smokescreen that encompasses the card. The area around you feels even more pressurized as this happens, and it becomes difficult to breathe. The perspective in the king of spade's silhouette has changed, and you watch Snowman slowly saunter down the staircase, cigarette in hand. As she comes clearer into view, English's eyes begin to flare up and burn even brighter, something you didn't think was possible. The card then disappears into a puff of gas from a quick snap of English's phantom grip.

Something about her clearly perturbs him, but you're unsure as to wha-

You don't have time to finish the thought before you see that English has now turned directly towards you. Never before have you felt such a staggering pain in your chest. An overwhelming sense of terror begins to fill you as his gaze becomes more and more strong. It would be best to get out of here until his attention has become diverted again.

**Be the smelly blind troll**

You know that saying smelly doesn't quite imply what you were looking for, but it was the first thing to come to mind. You are now Terezi.

Your day has been going by very slowly. When you weren't busy messing with Karkat or watching Eridan hopelessly try to impress Feferi, you've been trolling Dave to no avail. Everything about him smells so… libidinous. It's embarrassing to admit to yourself, but you often find yourself lost in the cherry-red ecstasy that just exhumes from him. You would never even dare to let him know that, though. He would probably just laugh at you and think it fell under some sort of odd human sense of irony. You're not even sure if he uses that word right most of the time.

Your train of thought becomes derailed as a breeze brushes the back of your neck and sends a chilling sensation down your body. You turn around quickly to try and catch whatever caused the cool wind, but you don't see anything abnormal. You decide to shrug it off and go back to Dave-related thoughts.

You wonder what will happen when this game is said and done. What will happen to you in the future? Will Dave still have the ability to time travel? If he does, would he ever use them to maybe…

No. You can't be thinking like that. The other trolls would despise you if they knew your feelings for a human were in the red. Half of them pay such close mind to the caste-system amongst your own species that applying any sort of romantic feelings to a human would get you in some serious trouble.

You're interrupted again by the same persistent draft, and all of your hairs stand on end easily. You can't shake the feeling that someone is studying your every movement, and the chilling wind on your neck becomes more and more frequent, nearly mimicking the patterns of breath. You try and get a whiff of whatever could be surveying you, and begin coughing violently as the stench of bubbling tar fills your lungs.

_"You will listen to me, Miss Pyrope, and you will listen well."_

You fall out of your chair to the ground, coughing more viciously. You can't seem to get your mind off of that terrible smell, and now your head is filling will voices nearly impossible to decipher. The only thing you can now hear is a deep and sultry voice speaking in tongues you can't even begin to understand. You struggle to try and look around the room for help, and can't come across even a blurry silhouette of another troll. The voices fill your head as the odorous toxin fills your nasal cavity, making you undergo something so overwhelming you feel as though could explode.

The freezing draft becomes stronger as you shudder beneath all of the feelings that are beginning to overcome you. Fear, rage, pain, sadness, you can barely believe the kind of toil your body is taking right now and can't seem to grasp why either. You would scream if you thought anyone would hear you, and in that moment, everything goes black and your pain melts away.

**Eridan: Investigate noise**

You were out wandering the meteor in search of Feferi, who seems pretty annoyed with your constant attempts at forming a matespritship with her. Mixing her blood with a peasant's blood could damage the hemospectrum on a pretty grand scale, and you don't want to see that sort of thing happen. You don't think she'll understand that for a long time, however, so you've decided to move on for a bit.

Not to mention you swear that for a split second, you could hear almost a scream coming from the computer den where the others were at. It's time to test out that wizard magic you've been trying to learn oh so much about.

After a few minutes of walking, you find yourself standing in front of the transporter that will take you directly to the computer den. The first thing you notice is a fading track of blood with a thin trail next to it. The only one who would leave a trail like this… part of you starts hoping the others are safe, even if you can't stand the thought of them most of the time. You cautiously approach the transporter, and transportalize.

You immediately fall to your knees at the site of what's left in the den. Teal blood is strewn across the room, and half of the computers have been destroyed. There's no sign of anyone else being in the room when whatever happened here happened, but a sense of panic begins to hang on your shoulders as you realize the blood spells out a message.

_ "1TS T1M3 1 SHOW MY TRU3 F4C3. YOU'LL 4LL S33 SOON 3NOUGH. PR3P4R3 FOR R4PTUR3."_

You don't like the sound of that, or the fact that it had to have been written by Terezi, _in her own blood._ What the hell is happening? You need to alert the others, and fast.

Before you can manage to turn around and leave, you can feel it on your neck. Terezi's cane, pressing against your jugular. You struggle to even swallow out of fear because the pressure against your throat is too severe.

_"I C4N SM3LL 1T ON YOU, 3R1D4N. YOUR F34R. 1T'S 4BSOLUT3LY D3L1C1OUS."_

"Terezi, this isn't vvery funny. Stop messin around before someone gets really hurt."

You're beginning to sweat, and she can smell that on you too. You swear that for a split second, she licks the seat dripping down the back of your neck.

Something strikes you as odd. Terezi doesn't sound like herself. Her voice is much deeper and smooth, almost like a mans voice. Maybe this isn't Terezi after all…

"_1T'S M3 4LR1GHT, 3R1. DON'T YOU D4R3 TH1NK OTH3RW1S3. __T3LL M3 3R1… 4M 1 SC4R1NG YOU? __DO YOU W4NT M3 TO STOP? 1S TH4T 1T?"_

"I just wwant you to put the cane down, Terezi. Just put it down so wwe can talk"

She clenches the cane tighter against your neck. You can no longer speak, just wait.

_"GO T3LL 3V3RYON3 1'M H3R3, 3R1. T3LL TH3M, 4ND 1 SP4R3 YOU. FOR NOW. GO. DO 4S 1 S4Y."_

The pitch of her voice slowly declines as she repeats the same lines into your ear, slowly and softly. You feel yourself slowly lulling into a stupor, and then to sleep.

**Rose: Answer informant**

[The time is coming, Seer.]

TT: What are you talking about?

TT: Wait…

TT: You're not referring to what I think you are, are you?

[He's already begun, Seer. We can't sit like a duck for much longer]

TT: The phrase is "sitting ducks", but I get your point.

[He seems to no longer have any use for me. Not even as a pawn. He's taking matters into his own hands this time.]

TT: Have you spoken to John or the others yet?

[They should have no knowledge of my existence yet and I plan on keeping it as thus. I need you to act as the informant this time, Seer. Just this once. From what I understand it's been a decent length of time since you or the other three have heard from the trolls. We will speak again when the time is right. I cannot risk the chance of English knowing of our plan. This is up to you.]

TT: Seems like a lot to rely on a teenage girl for, but as long as it stops this madness I guess I wont complain.

TT: Talk to you later, baldy.

You close the chat window with Scratch and look to see which trolls are online that you've spoken to thus far. Luckily enough, Kanaya is online. You decide sending her a message would be your best bet to find out the situation in the veil.

TT: Hey, Kanaya

TT: It's been quite some time since we've talked, so I assumed it would be a good idea to see how you're doing

TT: I hope I haven't upset you by not speaking to you sooner

TT: Hello?

GA: Sorry Rose But Things Are Hectic Here

TT: You're not off killing any of the trolls are you?

GA: Usually I Would Consider That Humorous But Right Now Isn't The Time, Rose.

GA: Something Is Going On With Terezi and Eridan

GA: I'll Get Back To You Later

grimAuxillatrix has ceased trolling tentacleTherapist

You don't know what to make of this. Scratch was practically panicking, something that's completely out of character for him, and now Kanaya? Something is going on, and you need to find out what.

**Rose: Pick up Crystal Ball**

You try to focus on the ribbons of alabaster that twirl and dance beneath the chilly surface of the ball, and before you know it images begin to rapidly fly through your head.

The one that strikes you the most is a thick teal river that seems to be flowing down pale troll fingers, rhythmically dripping onto the cold floor, and then lightly splashing against striped blue and black fabric.

You can also make out one more thing, but you're not sure how to put what you see into words. It terrifies you, whatever it is. It's worse than a horrorterror, or anything remotely along those lines.

A bright green flash cuts your concentration and sends you flying through the air, smashing your head against the wall behind you. You are now unconscious.

**Be Terezi**

You begin to wake up from what feels like a long and terrible nap. The last thing you can remember was sitting in front of your computer and getting a headache. You think it'd be safe to assume that you had just fallen asleep if it weren't for one important detail.

The room you're in smells nothing like the computer room. Actually, it smells like nothing at all. Absolutely nothing.

You try and sit up and realize that you already are sitting up. Well, maybe not so much "sitting up" as "tied down to a chair". You inhale air through your mouth to try and get a taste of anything at all, but it just tastes like, well, air. Your nose frantically tries to find a scent of anything in the room, but there isn't a single smell for you to pick up on. You've never been so stripped of your senses before. You have no way in the world to know what's going on around you.

GC: H3Y, 1S 4NYON3 TH3R3? TH1S 1SNT FUNNY :?

GC: 4T L34ST BR34K M3 OUT OF H3R3 OR SOM3TH1NG, TH1S 1S G3TTING K1ND4 W31RD…

And then, as if it were smacking you in the face, the strong scent of blueberries and oranges fills your nasal cavity, and a blurry image of Vriska begins to manifest in your head.

GC: WOW TH4TS SURPR1S1NG 1 M34N R34LLY WHO WOULDV3 3XP3CT3D YOU TO B3 TH3 ON3 WHO PUT ME H3R3

She just stands there, staring at you, watching every last move you make.

GC: HURRY UP 4ND L3T M3 OUT 4LR34DY

GC: 1 GU3SS 1M NOT R34LLY 1N 4 RUSH BUT 1 M34N 1 COULD B3 H3LP1NG US W1TH TH3 J4CK S1TU4T1ON OR SOM3TH1NG

GC: VR1SK4? :\

AG: I was a 8it surprised with what you did, 8ut now you expect me to let you out? Nice try.

GC: UHH WH4T

AG: I thought I had a 8ad rep for 8eing a 8itch, 8ut at least I dont play dum8 a8out it on top of that :::;)

GC: 1M HON3STLY 4 B1T CONFUS3D H3R3, W4NN4 3XPL41N?

AG: I thought you 8elieved in justice? We shouldve left you, not taken you here. This is worthless. Youre worthless.

You try and try to remember what happened when you were, well when you THOUGHT you were asleep. Not a thing comes to mind.

AG: Maybe I should just let you out. 8eing shunned by everyone is pro8a8ly worse anyway. Youre done, pyrope.

Her scent becomes stronger as you feel the wind shift as she walks towards you and begins untying you from your prison. As she unties you, she bends down and whispers in your ear.

AG: You even so much as touch Eridan again you can expect a 8ig visit from me, pyrope.

You're now fully untied, but the second you try to stand Vriska swiftly gives you a strong kick to the face and you fall to the ground on your hands and knees as you watch your pale teal blood drip from your nose to the floor. Now that you can move, you realize how incredibly weak you are and how difficult it is to stand.

AG: Crawl away 8efore I decide to treat you the way you deserve and don't 8other coming near me again unless you wanna die that 8adly.

She kicks you again, this time right in the ass which causes you to drop from your hands and knees and faceplant.

Your mind begins racing as you struggle to bring yourself to your feet, shaking and trembling under your own weight. You need to find out what happened with Eridan before someone else knocks you for whatever happened. You don't think they'll let you off as easy as Vriska did with the way things sound.

You manage to get through the door of the room and limp down the hallway, now realizing your arms and legs are drenched with what smells like your own dried blood. You have a feeling that you're very lucky to be alive right now.

Using the wall for support, you continue down the hallway until you come across a familiar, metallic smell. A transportalizer. You push yourself with one arm and land on your knee in the middle of the transportalizer, and transportalize.


End file.
